


An Undoing

by elva_barr



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Bondage, F/F, F/M, Gangbang, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elva_barr/pseuds/elva_barr
Summary: Madi found herself appraising Rackham with an annoyance that faded into admiration. For all the ways she found him fundamentally loathsome, she was curious at how he put himself into a position that required a great deal of work, and carried it out: not only was he organizing Flint's debauchement, he was negotiating its terms such that all parties were well-informed and prepared. The position required some flexibility and humility. She had no desire for intimacy or camaraderie with Rackham, but she was grateful for the lesson in facilitation.Flint nodded. "You, Bonny, Vane, Max, and," here his voice softened, questioning, "the three of us."John smiled. Of course he and Flint had talked about this. Madi had gathered this was a pirate's ritual, and being that she was not a pirate, she had not been planning on attending. But plans can change.
Relationships: "Calico" Jack Rackham/Charles Vane, Anne Bonny/"Calico" Jack Rackham, Anne Bonny/Madi, Anne Bonny/Max, Captain Flint | James McGraw & Max, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Charles Vane, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Everyone, Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Madi/John Silver
Kudos: 15





	An Undoing

**Author's Note:**

> assume some version of season 4 where charles vane is still alive, and everyone is at least temporarily peacefully on nassau. thank you, dear reader, for your willingness to be flexible with the canon, in the interest of a nice gangbang.
> 
> features and/or warnings: face-slapping, ass-slapping, general rough sex, rope bondage, fingering, carefree smearing of bodily fluids, multiple orgasms, power play, some unavoidable politics and negotiation

"Charles, the simple fact of the matter is that we've long had very sensible rules about this sort of thing, and alcohol has never been permitted. Not to mention that Captain Flint has specifically requested against it! I don't understand why we're even having this discussion." Jack's hands moved like flies buzzing around his head when he was mad, and it was a sight next to Vane, who stood as still as a post.

"Captaincy's gone to your head. You've no right, that tone with me."

"... My dearest, most fearsome and beloved pirate warrior, please, for the love of all that is good and holy, if you have any room in your resilient heart to divulge your most enlightened reasoning, at least, so that I may have some hopes of finding an equitable solution for all parties involved, please, Charles, think of all the things I've done for you and be generous with me. I'm only asking because I thought you and I were on the same page about trust, about wanting to restore it between Flint and all the others, about how important and lovely this whole, you know, ceremony, could be for you, for him, for us."

Anne cleared her throat at "good and holy." She had no stake in the conversation, save wanting a resolution sooner rather than later, but Jack was laying it on a bit thick and anyway, what use had Vane for goodness or holiness? Just when she thought he might throw a punch or, worse, walk away, Vane used his index and middle fingers to tip Jack's head up and look him in his eyes. 

"Ask, then. But know that if you demand answers from me at every turn..."

Immediately Jack fell into the "yes, yes, of course of course" posturing he took whenever he won anything from Vane, more than willing to put him in a false position of dominance. Neither of them were new to this dynamic, and the threat didn't need to be finished. In order to work, a threat needs to carry with it the knowledge that it would be carried out. Like a child that needs only a harsh stare from her mother to draw a hand back from the bread at the table, Jack only needed to hear the growl in Vane's voice to remember to show submission, and then some. Vane turned his hand so that instead of tipping up Jack's chin, he was holding his jaw firmly within his grasp, thumb scratching firmly at day-old stubble. 

Eyes lidded and hips shifting, Jack said, "Well, why is it so important to you that the rum be a part of this? Captain Vane?"

Anne had barely kept up with the conversation at the start of it. All she knew is that Vane had asked Idelle for two casks of rum, Idelle had gathered that it was for the orgy, and Idelle complained to Featherstone, who in turn complained to Jack. Truly Anne had no grudges in this battle. Idelle was mad because the only rules were no whores, no booze. As a whore, she would undoubtedly take offense at Vane wanting booze, not to mention asking her for it. Jack, mother hen that he was, cared only that everything was in order. As for Vane, well, it had been a long time since he and Flint had seen one another. Anne didn't know if they'd left on good terms. Maybe rum was bad for an orgy, but she didn't fault Vane for needing it for a reunion. 

It was rare that Anne found herself capable of such intelligible reflection, but maybe Jack's captaincy had gone to her head too. She'd walked into his cabin to see the two of them arguing, well, to see Jack ranting and Vane all hunched and squinty, and sat in an easily defensible corner to better watch the argument without being a part of it. Now that it had turned from words to strong arms and heated glares, she wouldn't have minded being a part of it. Plus, it was sure as hell easier to follow. 

Jack's body was like a poem, if she'd ever read one, which she hadn't, proudly. Jack kept his hands by his sides, palms extended just so to indicate that he wanted nothing more than to hold on to Vane's hips, but restrained himself out of a desire to show his diligence. From his mouth, a reedy whine persisted. His eyes, like a dog begging for scraps. 

Vane's mouth tightened and his hand shifted down to Jack's throat. Stop, give me the fucking floor, damn it. Anne knew how to read him too. And suddenly Charles' whole being shifted. It was as though all of his muscles loosened at once, and his eyes, so full of hard anger, melted into something that came closer to tearfulness than anything Anne had ever seen from him. His voice, when it came, was frictionless and even. Never before had Anne seen Vane give Jack the gift of no attitude. It was awe-inspiring. "Because, Jack, it's a lot of people, and we've all fucked each other and fucked each other over, and I need it to be comfortable. I need it."

"Half a cask, and it's only for you, and I give everyone eight shillings to ensure it won't be a problem."

Vane not only nodded, but said "thank you" in that same measured tone. She saw Jack's left shoulderblade twitch in a suppressed hurrah, a real glory to find compromise where stalemate was just as likely. For a moment, they all breathed easy. 

She heard it before she saw it. A sudden shift in the air. A sharp and meaty smack, Jack's body doubled over, hands clutched to his cheek. He turned to Anne and flashed a smile that bordered the line between arrogance and gratitude. She didn't need to hear him say it: "This conversation could not have gone better, my love, truly." Vane's hand tightened on Jack's shoulder, either to pull him closer or push him to his knees. She stretched out her legs to either side of her, as far as they would go, and leaned her elbows on them, not willing to invite either of them closer to her, but giving her hearty aye. 

\--

Madi didn't know Captain Jack Rakham very well, but so far she had gathered that his worst vice was timing. By the twitch of her lover's eyebrow, she knew John agreed. Flint, meanwhile, was anxious about the morrow. Because of this, no kisses could keep him from a practical matter that required his immediate decision-making power. The more specific and bizarre, the better. 

"I suppose it's fitting that we have to start this affair with some compromise. That's the rule of the new world, isn't it, compromise." Madi sighed. She was grateful for his resentment. Of course the strength of his feelings had nothing to do with the rum. 

She had herself come to terms with the state of things, as much as she could, at least for this moment, choosing to coast on the atmosphere of joy over her own certain numbness. It was easier to lose when you weren't the only one losing. The upward curve of Flint's mouth as he said "compromise" put a spark in her belly, and she knew that this new world was less of a sure bet than Rackham would have liked, that it was only a matter of time before she found a foothold for setting things right, really right. She did not need Flint beside her, but she knew she would have him. Security lends itself to trust, and trust lends itself to setting down a sword in favor of finding some pleasure. She would not stay on Nassau long, not like this, but she would see alliances strengthened. And so, before she would have him as an ally, she would have him in her bed. Or in his cabin. She would have him as she liked. 

Flint paused with his hand on his beard, grimacing and looking out the window before inspiration struck, and his eyes met Rackham's. "Invite Max. If we're going to compromise on one, we may as well compromise on the other, and there's no reason she shouldn't be there. I owe her as much as I owe anybody else."

Madi frowned, and added as evenly as she could, "And she owes you, too, James."

"Yes, well, one hopes we do all get something out of this. Not that I'm counting, but I do believe I could rouse up some sentiment of needing a debt repaid, myself, if I wanted to. Of course, being that I am a responsible and generous captain, I choose not to dwell on score-keeping." Rackham paced as he spoke, though there wasn't much room to spare in the cabin, so the impression given was like a small wheel spinning itself from frustration into agreeableness. "I think inviting Max is a simply wonderful idea, Captain, and I will see to it right away. This brings our number to six, including yourself. Shall we review the roster?"

Madi found herself appraising Rackham with an annoyance that faded into admiration. For all the ways she found him fundamentally loathsome, she was curious at how he put himself into a position that required a great deal of work, and carried it out: not only was he organizing Flint's debauchement, he was negotiating its terms such that all parties were well-informed and prepared. The position required some flexibility and humility. She had no desire for intimacy or camaraderie with Rackham, but she was grateful for the lesson in facilitation. 

Flint nodded. "Seven. You, Bonny, Vane, Max, and," here his voice softened, questioning, "the three of us."

John smiled. Of course he and Flint had talked about this. Madi had gathered this was a pirate's ritual, and being that she was not a pirate, she had not been planning on attending. But plans can change. She could have him on his ship before she had him in her bed. Flint looked at her, and she raised her eyebrows, asking him non-verbally to explain himself and his desires. He did: "I request your presence tomorrow, Princess. I know that the peace on Nassau is at best an insult to you right now. But by attending, you signal our continued alliance. This ritual, this orgy, it is a signal of my commitment to all members present, and my commitment to you is paramount."

John swallowed tightly and looked at Madi beseechingly. Madi was sure he had heard many of the same implications from Flint that she did, but that where she felt bolstered by them, John felt unmoored. That was acceptable. She had not yet decided whether John would, ultimately, be unmoored from her. Some decisions are better made yesterday, some today, and some tomorrow. There was little John's looks or words could do now, when his actions had spoken for him so much. Still, she could not help but take his hand in hers, and squeeze. Her heart was steady even when her thoughts were shaken. And, truthfully, there was a part of her that enjoyed seeing these men fumbling in their attempts to repair their relationships to her. 

"I will attend. Are there any other concerns, Jack Rackham?" Madi was aware that Flint was asking Rackham to compromise now, too, because he surely had not planned for Madi's being there tomorrow, and now he would need to do a great deal of work to ensure all of the other parties that her addition was for the best. 

Rackham drew in a breath and shook his head, a faint "yes, of course, that's all, of course, yes" coming from his lips. As he walked towards the door, he muttered to himself, "you know, it is Captain Jack Rakham, for future reference."

Madi smiled peacefully, grateful that she had long ago learned to ignore that which did not concern her.

\--

In a fight with multiple opponents against a single warrior, sometimes a strange and ridiculous thing happened. The opponents would line up before the warrior, taking him on one at at time, rather than the logical outcome of taking him on all at once. Even though he knew it was ridiculous, John felt himself playing into this dynamic, standing a ways behind Charles Vane, who held in his hands a length of rope. 

Still, the sun shined brightly, the ship was far enough out to sea that no one would dream of seeing the mighty Captain Flint tied to the mainmast, surrounded by the most powerful victors of the new age of piracy. John could be brave. "So, Captain Vane here has the ropes element well in hand. Thank you Captain Vane. I do believe my lovely wife has an oil appropriate for the occasion, and I myself feel that if we don't begin now, I may die."

Rackham smiled widely at John, an enthusiastic co-conspirator. He looked to his left at the three women attending and said, "Are there any objections before we proceed? Ladies, are we comfortable?"

The ladies in question stared blankly at Rackham before turning their gazes to John, first Madi, then Anne, then Max. Max spoke first. "Captain Silver, perhaps you would do well to remove Captain Flint's clothing before Captain Vane affixes him to the mast. Or is there a pirate tradition that one's pants must be ruined in order for the debauchery to be considered in good standing?"

Flint himself looked a little like a schoolboy awaiting a beating from the nuns, or maybe like a gazelle surrounded on all sides by lions. John saw that he was, in fact, the only man on premises without an erection. Good. The second best kind of problem, he'd always thought, is one you can solve. (The first best, as everyone knows, is one you can ignore.) He took a breath and found his grit. He touched Vane's arm and gently took the ropes from him. Something within Flint seemed to relax, just a little. Charles Vane frowned and made to step back, but John kept his hand on his arm, tightening it, signaling for him to stay where he was. "We don't have to take turns, you know. This is an excellent opportunity for us to collaborate," he said. 

John moved himself as close to Flint as was comfortable, leaning to one side, and removed his shirt. He didn't kiss him, even though Flint very obviously brought his face as close to John's as he could, asking without words. Begging, even, already. John smiled, brought Flint's wrists upward, and said, "Madi, why don't you stand on that cask there so that you can tie his hands above his head easily?"

Madi smiled at the invitation, and kissed John before taking the rope from his hands. Standing on the barrel, Flint's face was level with her thighs, and he shuddered. John looked at Vane and said, "I think he wants to be kissed."

Vane smiled, something within him rising to the occasion, and growled, "oh, you think, do you?"

But he didn't move to kiss Flint. Instead, he pulled Rackham close, so that the two of them stood in front of Flint, and kissed him, hard. Rackham was an exciteable creature, moving his hands from Vane's hair to his dick to Flint's chest, groping without looking, to John's own hand, squeezing tight, as if to say, "we're here! at last!"

Just as John was getting used to the sight of Rackham and Vane mauling each other, Vane stopped, pushed Rackham back towards Anne Bonny, and grabbed him. He paused for a breath, waiting for objection, before he kissed John. This was another creature entirely than what John had just seen. Vane kissed with a gentleness that surprised John, a gentleness that brought out his own ferocity. He found himself kissing Vane harder, harder, moving from his mouth to his neck to his collarbone and back to his ear. Beside them, he heard a soft "hmm, yes" as Madi removed Flint's pants entirely, leaving him exposed to them all. Flint was hard, and straining against his ropes already, leaning in as close as he could to the space where John's mouth met Vane's ear. Vane cupped John behind the head and nodded to him before turning his attention entirely to Captain Flint. 

John took the cue, and stepped back just far enough that he could still see every twitch, but let the moment be between these two most fearsome horndogs. Vane smiled at Flint, the way a shark might smile at an octopus. "You trust me?" he asked, extending his hand to trace gently along Flint's erection, "you gonna trust me enough to come for me?"

Flint's breath shuddered out of his body when Vane touched his cock. Vane's fingers were so light, so gentle, barely a tease. Flint looked upward at the ropes tying him, looked around at all these beautiful people, entirely clothed, entirely powerful, here to see him truly undone, and smiled his own shark smile at Vane. "I suppose we're about to find out." Vane's right hand swiftly closed around Flint's balls, holding them tightly to his body, and his left tightened around his dick, pulling in strokes that looked agonizing. Flint's head fell back against the mast, and he chuckled. John had gotten the impression, up to this point, that Flint was somewhat on the fence about this whole ordeal, but now as he heard that laugh, he knew that Flint was as in as he could be. Something within him relaxed.

John's gaze wandered to Jack -- he knew that Jack and Vane had fucked, even if he didn't know before today, it was undeniable, having seen the two of them kiss. Jack might have looked casual, from eighty feet away. Standing where John was standing, he looked like he was panting after Flint's cock. Understandable. Flushed pink, curving pleasantly towards the left side of his belly, already wet at the tip, it was a cock made to be sucked, and Vane didn't look like he was going to do anything other than torture him with his firm grip. 

Vane turned and smiled at John, nodding to him as if to say, hey, thanks for your part in arranging this. John took a moment to feel warm, and then as he looked at Vane, who was holding Flint's dick firmly in his right hand while scraping the nail of his left index finger against the vein on the underside, he took a moment to feel very, very, very warm. Jack had warned John that Vane would be rough. John, in turn, had warned Flint. Flint had smiled, unruffled, and said, "I'm sure I can handle it."

\--

Max settled a hand gently on Jack's hair, ruffling it. She did not receive the pleasure of his gaze in return, but she heard his soft rumbling purr and felt his head lift slightly into the pressure of her palm, unwilling though he was to separate his mouth from Flint's still-soft cock. As fucked out as he was, the force of Flint's attention still gripped her like an unyeilding hook in her chest. The back of her head felt fear and arousal, even as the front of her head proclaimed loudly and obviously that only the latter was welcome. 

She leaned forward, kissed him on his sweaty cheek, and looked him in the eye: "Thank you for inviting me, Captain Flint. I'm afraid that the necessary drudgery of administration requires my attention on the island now, and I must bid you a fond goodbye early. If it may be of service to you, I might visit Thomas at the inn and give him the message that you are hale and happy, as I am sure he is anxious as to whether you are enjoying yourself." Beneath her, she felt more than heard Jack hum thoughtfully, perhaps thinking of how he might add to what she was saying. Luckily, he was too interested in cocksucking to start talking. 

"Y-yes. Thank you. Max, thank you. I am -- this is -- embarrassment of riches -- of course you were welcome -- I only, oh."

Skirts already gathered in her hands, Max had second thoughts about leaving, seeing Flint as he was, chest heaving, arms trembling, still so nervous when he should be lost in a haze of pleasure. Without baring her ass to the attractive but disgusting pirates behind her, she dragged her hand under her skirt and in between her legs, plunging her middle and ring fingers inside herself and fucking once, twice, a third time, a fourth time, heel pressing against her clit with enough force to feel like the brim of an orgasm even though it wasn't nearly enough. Max didn't need to pry Flint's lips open, his mouth dropped at seeing her pleasure herself even for a moment. Even Jack had released Flint's dick to breathe in her smell as closely as he dared, which was a respectful enough half an arm's length away. 

She gently settled her fingers against Flint's tongue, looking into his eyes and finally seeing something settle down as he tasted her. "Make no mistake, Captain, we all share in the riches. Today you are the bounty, and we are very lucky for it," fingers still sticky, she caressed his cheek and bit down on his chin, firm, playful, "relax." 

She walked away from the mast, looking towards the longboats. She knew that someone would follow to escort her to town, and she knew it would not be Anne, who was loathe to leave Jack alone in such a heated, curious moment. Max walked towards Anne and squeezed her hand. "Until tonight," she said, and Anne responded by lifting the back of her hand and licking in between her fingers, the sly cunt. 

When Max got to the edge of the ship, she turned around and raised her eyebrows. Silver rewarded her with not only with a nod to his missing leg as if to say "I'm not the courier you seek," but a full-on wave goodbye and awkward smile. Next to him, Madi frowned and said, "Captain Vane, I trust you'll be back shortly." 

Vane, who knew full well where he needed to earn good graces in order to continue his long and happy life, nodded and set his glass next to his knife, which was set to the side near everyone else's temporarily discarded weaponry. 

\--

Rackham was still on his knees, sucking at James's cock, when Vane returned from escorting Max. James knew he was hard again, which already surprised him. Today was one long horizon of surprises: the taste of Max on his tongue, Vane's roughness, Vane's gentleness, Anne Bonny's keen gaze, John's restraint, Madi's quick fingers. He was already undone, and he found himself unsure of what else there could possibly be left to undo, when he saw Vane approach Jack and whisper into his ear. 

"What? Oh, yes, of course, my love, yes, your wisdom knows no bounds," Rakham murmured, and lifted up James's leg until he re-oriented himself such that his mouth was no longer on his cock, but hovering just below his ass. Perhaps in another lifetime, James's eyes would go wide and he would protest, but.... today was not a day for protests, and he found himself very glad for this fact. 

Vane moved ever closer and tapped in soft, posessive, random pitter patters across his dick and balls while Rackham acquainted himself very enthusiastically with his hole, laving in upward strokes. James didn't think -- he didn't think. He floated. He perceived Madi approach him and kiss his mouth, then his neck, then his nipples. As she drew back, James sensed a shift, and looked down to see Rackham stand, him and Vane on both sides of him. His ass clenched, empty and wanting. 

But not for long. Vane pushed a jar of oil into Rackham's hand, having him hold it still while he thrust his own fingers first into the oil, and then, two at once, into James. Rackham smiled, and started doing what he always did when his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied: "Oh, Charles, I do think he's going to need more than that, don't you? After all, it's Long John Silver who has yet to take his own pleasure from our dear friend here. Let me help you out. Four fingers should do nicely, don't you think?"

And so Rackham slicked two of his own fingers and pushed them into James. What a sight they must have been, standing on either side of him and fucking his ass loose. Soon, though, Rackham frowned. "I think we should turn him around, he'll be better to fuck that way."

As Vane loosed his ropes and turned him, and Rackham moved back to let him work, James heard John say, "Oh, yes, thank you Jack, that will be much easier, and what a lovely sight, but please, Captain Vane, if you would be so kind as to affix him once again?"

And he heard Rackham respond, "Oh, surely, Charles, we can put his hands in front of him now. Let's not have him lose any feeling in those lovely fingers, and anyway, I hardly think he means to escape at this point."

Indeed, James could not even perceive of the concept of escaping. He was already so free. 

\--

When Vane had finished tying Flint, he had stalked over to Jack like a large jungle cat, settling behind him, holding on to his dick as they watched the fucking together. Vane made no moves to take off Jack's breeches, and Anne agreed with this decision -- Flint's rawness, his vulnerability, it made more of an impact on all of them if he was the only one fully naked. A shame, though, because Jack was obviously dying of his own arousal, eyes glazed well and truly over, simmering in his pleasure not only because Flint was a rare and mouth-watering sight, but also because Jack was simply pleased at having organized a true pirate's debauchery, one that Nassau had not seen since the days of Henry Avery. This day would be spoken of for decades to come. 

So when Vane had looked at her, and then looked at Jack, and then looked at the longboats, she drew close to them. She put her hand over Vane's, on Jack's dick, and squeezed. Hard. Then she nodded, and moved away, closer to Madi, who was herself short of breath, leaning on John's crutch, which he had abandoned in favor of leaning on Flint's back as much as he could while he pounded him furiously. 

Only when Vane and Jack were in the longboat did Jack gain the presence of mind to mark the occasion verbally, and she could only make out his words on account of her excellent hearing and knowledge of Jack's general vocabulary. It sounded like "Happy gangbang everyone! See you on the morrow!"

Madi seemed to relax when Jack and Vane left, and Anne moved so that she was more obviously in Madi's line of sight. Only in battle did she mean for anyone to feel false comfort because they could not see her. Madi looked at her, and smiled. There was a part of Anne that wanted nothing more than to bare her neck to Madi because of that smile, and that part was her cunt, so she did bare her neck, and Madi did walk closer to her, and they locked together in an unfamiliar, revelatory embrace, leaning against one side of the ship, as they watched Long John Silver absolutely destroy his former captain. 

Anne didn't ask using her words, but she raised her eyebrows at Madi, indicating her husband, truly impressed with his physical capacity. Madi nodded, almost begrudgingly, "John is very strong, yes."

Anne, of course, knew when a bridge was over troubled waters, and knew the most pleasing form of counsel she could offer. She turned towards Madi, and tilted her chin up. Madi's smile grew larger, and she simply said, "yes, I will," before taking Anne's mouth and turning everything inside out. 

Silver's back was towards them, and his hips were still pistoning madly in and out of Flint's ass, and Flint was shouting softly every other thrust, but Silver must have had ears like Anne, because when he heard the rustle of Madi's fingers untying Anne's breeches and the resulting whine that came unbidden from her throat, he growled, "yes, everything, yes, now."

Madi didn't seem to hear him. She was only listening to Anne now, stroking her clit firmly and confidently. For a moment Anne almost brought her own hand down, to show Madi how to make the firm tight circles that always brought her off, but then she stopped, because the fast back and forth of Madi's fingers had already brought her to the edge of climax without even realizing it. She looked at Madi, eyes wide. Perhaps it was a different thing entirely to have someone touch you in a time and place where someone else's orgasms have already been achieved. Madi nodded, sucked bright and hard on Anne's neck, and Anne came so hard that her thighs started shaking. 

Without missing a beat, Madi moved in closer, and thrust two fingers deep into Anne's cunt, launching an assault on the senses that was so welcome Anne's vision blurred. She was grateful for the firm edges of the ship, as she leaned more and more of her weight against the railing, hungry for the slick fuck of Madi's hand. Sometime after she came again, her head fully hidden in Madi's neck, she heard a moan, then a responding grunt, then a series of loud slaps. Sensing that her time was coming to an end, and not pleased about it, she extended a shaky hand to Madi's skirts. "Perhaps another time, I will call on your mouth," Madi said, and kissed her before walking up to her sweaty husband and his thoroughly defiled Flint. 

"May you be an enigma to me always," Silver panted, eyes dancing from Madi's eyes to her mouth to her feet, to her hands, the right of which extended his crutch towards him benevolently. When he took his crutch, she moved her right hand to his waist and her left hand -- the hand that had just been fishing around in Anne's cunt, hunting a third orgasm -- went to his mouth. Silver's eyes widened and he looked at Anne. She shrugged, pleased but unwilling to either smile or frown. Silver was willing to frown, and he asked her to please attend to Flint's ropes, which he now found himself utterly incapable of untying. 

Anne regularly found herself in unexpected positions of responsibility, so she didn't balk. She nodded, and Silver left with Madi, who pressed yet another parting kiss to her mouth. Parties were nice, Anne thought. Madi didn't have to kiss her again. Maybe without this party, Madi would never have kissed her. She decided to thank Jack, very thoroughly and forcefully, tomorrow. Anne did wonder for a moment about how they managed to get on the longboat, with Silver's leg, but she now knew Madi was quite capable with her hands, so she decided not to make it her problem. 

She drew her knife and approached Flint, whose eyes she couldn't see, but whose breath was shallow and whose ass was red. She walked around him until she was face to face with him, and was shocked to find that his dick was hard. He looked at her with eyes as clear as the ocean in the middle of a tempest. 

"Are you the one responsible for untying me now?"

"Did Silver leave without, eh -- "

"Oh, that," Flint looked down, "No, it, oh, it stays that way after a certain amount of, well, activity."

Flint had never struck her as a shy type, but Anne recalled a phrase she'd heard once: fierce with his sword, tame with his cock. She'd heard it from a crewmember looking to disparage Vane, once, and discounted it immediately, but now she understood. There was nothing cowardly about Flint's tameness here. She saw him as he was now: gentle, self-deprecating, hopeful, a lover. 

She took out her knife and pressed it to Vane's ropework. It was a waste of rope, but with the way Flint had struggled, she didn't think it was worth trying to untie anything. Before she made a cut, she paused, breathed in the scent of Flint's sweat, come, and tears, and whispered, "well, wait, that's not fair now, is it? Me being the one to untie you when I ain't even had a drop."

The blunt leather end of her knife dragged down Flint's heaving bosom before she put it back in its holster. Flint said nothing, but his tongue flickered out to wet his lips, and his eyes seemed to pull her own mouth closer to his. Anne smiled. She was ready for her turn, now.


End file.
